Body Shots
by HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: It's Scott's birthday, and it seems like everyone wants a piece of the birthday boy except for his boyfriend.


_I'm gonna fight 'em all_

 _A seven nation army couldn't-_

That's as far as the song gets before Scott's palm comes slapping down on his alarm clock, Jack White's aggravating voice disappearing into the blissful nothingness of his darkened room. Derek's the White Stripes fan, not him.

"They're gonna rip it off, taking their time right behind my back" – the song continues, except now it's to the tune of "Happy Birthday," and in Derek's deep, mellow voice. Scott is only vaguely aware of his proximity, half back to sleep and it's his birthday today, why can't Derek just let him rest? That's not so much to ask, is it?

"Good morning, Scott." Strong, sure arms that spooned him all night wrap him up and pull him even more flush with Derek's front.

"Mmmnmmnn" is the only answer Derek's going to get right now; it's seven o'clock and yes, he knows he has to be up to get to his eight o'clock class but seriously, birthday. Special privileges. Not handsy, scruffy boyfriends already trying to turn him on.

Scott's peace is shattered further as he's rolled onto his back and the covers go with Derek, pooling at his waist as he sits on Scott's thighs. His hands come back and skirt up his sides, blunt nails tracking the dips of his ribcage. Scott cracks his right eye open, spying an entirely too happy for this time of the morning – and whenever Derek's grinning like that, Scott knows better than to try and resist.

"Good, you're awake now." Derek leans down, all beardy dimples and sleep mussed hair that makes him look entirely too irresistible. Scott kind of hates that, because he knows Derek's already won – and Derek knows it too.

"Awake is relative right now." Scott throws his right arm over his eyes, blocking out Derek and the rest of the world. All it does is prompt Derek to lean down and kiss his tricep, his beard tickling the sensitive skin. Scott tries to shy away, maybe throw Derek to the floor so he can go back to sleep – but Derek is having absolutely none of it and instead proceeds to lick the curve of Scott's fairly significant bicep. (They've both been hitting weights _hard_ at the gym lately and it's getting to the point where half of his shirts no longer fit his torso well.)

"Babe, you have to get up anyway. May as well be awake for me to give you the first of your presents." Derek's breath is warm against his neck, scraping his jaw and lips over the column of his throat. Scott shivers in spite of himself and lets Derek remove his arm from his face.

"Wait, pres _ents?"_ Scott opens both eyes and finally lets Derek lie between his leg.

"Mmhm, as in more than one. Do you have a problem with that?" Bad move letting Derek get on his level, because he's wiggling his hips against Scott's and yep, he's hard – but so is Scott, and it's not at all his fault; it's Mr. Beard Porn here, making his body wake up even though he doesn't want to.

"No."

"Good."

Before Scott has the chance to protest that he's got some pretty wicked morning breath, Derek's kissing him, tongue swiping against Scott's lips like it's his right to be there. Scott opens his mouth and preys his breath isn't as bad as it tastes. Derek certainly doesn't seem to care and he shifts from urgent to _good morning, I love you deeply_ in a flash. That wakes Scott up more than anything, especially with the way Derek uses his right hand to trace the pillow creases on Scott's face and the other to reach down between them and draw Scott's dick out of the fly of his boxer briefs.

Derek doesn't grant Scott the favor of actually doing anything with his cock, just pulls it out so that it's trapped between their bellies. Scott kisses Derek with a little more urgency, _you have my full attention_ pressed against Derek's mouth. Derek, being the ass he is, continues to do nothing, just holds Scott's face and rubs his side. God, one would think that if he's going to wake him up he'd actually do something – not that the kissing _isn't_ something, it's just not the _right_ something.

Scott feels what Derek's been waiting for; the sticky precome that makes Derek's belly hair pull a little. It's slick and warm and shit, there's _a lot_ of it. Derek must notice too, because he finally uses that hand that's giving Scott's side a rub down to grip his cock and stroke him slowly – very slowly – up and down, pinching his foreskin gently so that a great big bead of it smears itself between his thumb and forefinger.

"Satisfied?" Scott's voice comes out like he's just run up the big hill on the back side of campus with the wind pushing against him. Derek seems to take pride in it and brings his precome-coated fingers to his mouth.

"Hey, I'm not gonna let you have your present without a little work, babe." Derek makes an all too pornographic show of licking his fingers clean – and to think, in a little bit he's going to be coiffed to perfection, glasses and sweater making him the very picture of the studious, serious post-baccalaureate TA.

Right now he just looks like a Corbin Fisher model, and Scott would know – that's their favorite studio.

"But Derek, _it's my birthday –_ I shouldn't _have_ to work."

"And you'd rather me have just swallowed your dick before giving you a nice, long good morning kiss? You and I both know it makes you super wet." Derek strokes Scott's cock again – like that point needed further emphasizing.

Scott can't help the small, quiet "ah" that escapes his mouth; they do share the house with three other people, and the walls aren't exactly soundproof. It's also not like Derek and Scott are professionals at being quiet, either.

"Think you're gonna need to make a little more noise than that, babe." Derek puts his nose to Scott's as he reaches into Scott's fly and draws his balls out, cupping and rolling them between his fingers.

Scott feels his teeth grind together as he suppresses a groan, because Derek is way, _way_ too good at this. "And catch hell from Stiles about it for the rest of the day?"

"It'd be worth it, wouldn't it? Besides, he and Danny aren't exactly quiet."

"It's about being the bigger person, Derek." Scott moans as Derek worries a mark into his neck and makes his toes curl so hard they start to hurt a little.

"Babe, we've all seen Stiles naked – you're _definitely_ the bigger-"

Scott pinches Derek's belly, feeling more than a little defensive of Stiles' body; after all, that is his best friend Derek's ragging on. Always rags on. Either way, it's not nice.

"Not now, Derek." Scott gives him a hard stare, and Derek closes his mouth, then resumes giving Scott a hickie.

"Better," Scott whispers, and Derek licks a circle around the imprint of his lips.

Scott groans again and Derek starts to rut against Scott's hip, his dick still in his briefs. Scott goes to reach for him and gets his hands batted away.

"Not today, Scott – this is all about you right now." Derek sucks on his left earlobe and God, he really, really needs to stop so Scott can get up and at least _try_ to get to class on time.

"Derek…" There were more words to that thought but they're gone now, Derek's hand back on his dick and scrambling his brain. Derek ignores his barely spoken pleadings and just finds all those little spots on the side of Scott's head that make even more precome leak out over Derek's fingers.

"So wet today, baby." Derek finally lets up on his ear and licks his hand again, those pretty eyes half-hooded and as big as you please; Scott may as well just use his last skip of the semester at this point, because Derek's got that "I'm not stopping now" glint in his irises.

"Your…" Scott was going to say _your fault_ but Derek's gone, replaced by the covers and a Derek-shaped mass moving underneath them. Scott watches the shape of his head move lower and lower down his torso, licking the dips and lines of his torso, interspersing them with little bites because yes indeed Scott loves a little pain mixed with his pleasure – and that's Derek's fault as well. There are actually _a lot_ of things that Scott's into now that have come about as a result of being the only significant other of Derek Hale.

Apparently birthday bites mixed with what he hopes is a blowjob is one of them. At least that had better be what Derek's intentions are, because if they aren't Scott's going to be just a little peeved; he's not about to go about his day with blue balls, not since Derek's making him late.

"Hey Scott, guess what?" Derek's voice is muffled and super, super close to his balls, like his lips are half an inch away from them close.

Scott wants to peek at Derek but knows he won't get anywhere if he does, so he touches Derek's head and runs his fingers through his hair. "You found a gnome?"

"Ha- _ha –_ no; your balls are super loose today." Derek's mouth closes over the left one and Scott moans a lot louder than before. He waits for the inevitable knock against his wall from Stiles but nothing happens, just the muted sound of the air escaping from Derek's mouth as he sucks in the other one. Scott kind of wishes Derek didn't adopt the philosophy of "if it's not noisy, it's not good" – but of course he's right, and Scott will gladly take hearing some untoward sounds if it means a world-class blowjob.

Right as Scott's about to tell Derek he's glad that he's here to let him know these things, Derek's phone starts to shriek out "Sweet Home Alabama" (the most annoying song he could think of so he'd know it was his professor calling) and Scott nearly jumps out of his skin, barely missing causing himself grievous bodily harm on Derek's canines. He's been with Derek long enough now to know that his professor doesn't call unless it's something very, very important and it's with a great deal of regret that Scott reaches for his phone.

Derek's hand shoots out from under the blankets – just his hand – and Scott hands him the phone. This whole time, Derek still has Scott's balls in his mouth and the only pause is when he says "hello."

He then promptly resumes sucking on Scott's balls, alternating them in his mouth while Scott bites his left hand so he doesn't cry out.

Whatever their conversation is about, it's mostly answered from Derek's end with a bunch of "mmhms" – each vibration of Derek's deep voice makes Scott's spine liquefy a little more. Between that and the tickle of Derek's beard, Scott may as well stay right where he is today.

The warmth of Derek's mouth and body disappear when he sits up and the blankets spill down his back and he's straddling Scott's legs, looking regretful as he hangs up and sighs. He has precome smeared against his cheeks and forehead and his lips are swollen from having them on Scott's body for so long.

"Don't move, babe." Scott grabs his phone and takes a picture, Derek frowning not out of having that image frozen forever but from his conversation.

"I have to go – Erica's gone to the emergency room with her appendix and I have to cover her class." Derek looks genuinely sad, not only for Erica but for having to leave Scott.

"Go, babe – I'll live." Scott leans up to kiss him and God, he can taste himself in Derek's mouth and he's really thinking the B- he's got in Ancient Economics can fuck itself right now if it means he can jerk off with the memory of Derek's lips against his.

Derek pushes himself away and practically runs to the shower. Right before he closes the door, he gives Scott a long, appreciative once-over.

"Just one thing, babe – can you save that for later for me?" Derek licks his lips and drops his underwear to the floor, his cock pointed to the sky. Like that's going to be an easy request to grant, with Derek looking like that.

Scott tears his eyes away from Derek's junk and looks him in the eye.

"I promise, babe."

Derek smiles and disappears, leaving Scott thinking he'd better use the bathroom down the hall, or Erica's Intro To European Politics class is going to be short one substitute TA.

Scott ends up making it to his first class two seconds before his professor locks the door, his hair still dripping wet and his dimples out in full force so that just a little pity is taken on him. Whether or not the half-boner he still has is super obvious, he doesn't worry about too much – no one laughs or snickers at him, so maybe his dark jeans are doing a better job of concealing him then he originally thought.

Of course the first class drags – as does the second one, and the third one; why he let Derek run his schedule this semester is beyond him, because no one should have three morning classes on Friday, and especially not on their birthday – doubly so if it's their 21st. On top of them dragging to no end, he's hungry. Derek kind of ate up his breakfast time with trying to grope and blow him – as nice as those things normally are – and they're very, _very_ nice – he doesn't like that he didn't get to eat. He tends to do much better when his stomach isn't making literal growls that he really sort of feels like everyone in the room hears.

It wouldn't be so bad if he wasn't thinking about Derek's naked body, too.

See, Scott hates to leave things unfinished, because Derek is so, so sexy. It's a crime to not touch him back, to feel and caress and enjoy him. God, Derek has standing consent on most anything Scott wants to do to/with him, and seeing as how their lecture today wasn't vitally important, well… he could have jerked off in the shower and been maybe slightly more focused.

But he's there, he's doing his best to not salivate over Derek's ass, and he's just going to have to deal with it.

As he leaves his third – and thank God, his _last_ class of the day, he finally checks his phone. There's a ton of birthday messages, mostly, wishing him well, don't get too drunk, enjoy yourself and he starts to respond to them, smiling wider and wider with each one. He's surprised at how many are from his fraternity brothers – most of whom, even after a year and a half he doesn't know that well – and they promise that tomorrow night he's getting a kegger, no questions asked.

Scott weighs his options; either get roaring drunk tonight, or wait til tomorrow. Given that Derek's probably going to want to get handsy again later, he opts for tomorrow.

Though if someone offers him a drink today, he's not going to turn it down.

Right as he's finishing responding to his messages, there's one last text from Stiles.

 _HAPPY CHEESY POTATO DAY_

In the midst of thinking about, well, everything else, Scott had forgotten all about Cheesy Potato Day.

Every Friday, the cafeteria says "fuck it" and makes batches and batches of delicious cheesy potatoes, from parmesan garlic to cheddar and everything in between. Derek doesn't get the appeal of mountains of starch but man, those potatoes are the perfect cap to his week, and they'll be extra good today, considering the whole skipped breakfast thing. Hell, they might even slake the gnawing arousal in his belly.

There's even the chance that Derek might get to join him for lunch, if he's not busy. Most Fridays he does but it's never a guaranteed sort of thing, so if he does come through those caf doors, sweater-garbed and tie around his neck – it makes the day all the more special.

He's about to text Derek that he's in their normal spot, steaming plate of cheddar and bacon potatoes heaped in front of him when Derek's name flashes in his Kik app.

 _Can't make it babe – gotta cover another class and then Dr. Bendetto wants to have a "conference."_

Scott eats a forkful of potatoes to ease his disappointment.

 _"Conference" meaning what?_

Scott sees that his message is delivered, eats some more potatoes, and keeps an eye out for Stiles. He could always get his tablet out and work some more on his comic strip but he's just not feeling it; the worst part of being an art major is that inspiration is never there when it needs to be distracting. Hell, not even drawing Derek naked would help when all he wants to do is just lick every damn inch of him.

He nearly kneecaps himself on the table when his phone chirps again.

 _I dared to ask and he apparently wants to discuss me being made adjunct faculty at the technical school. Fuck. Me._

Scott smiles, picturing Derek's adorably pissed face; community college level history is on that list of things that Derek resolves never to teach – "I have my pride, Scott, it's at the university level or nothing." Scott thinks it's just a little snobby but better he agree then start Derek on an argument and him end up being sullen for the rest of the day.

 _I'm only interested in one part of that sentence._

Scott eats some more potatoes and watches people go by, smiling at a couple of his classmates and thinking about going back for a second helping as he makes it to halfway through his plate. Seriously, the best fucking potatoes ever.

 _Are you alone?_

Scott's eyebrows raise. _Just in the caf, why?_

Derek doesn't send a message next – just a picture of his hand grabbing his bulge through his black trousers, the zipper down to show off just a hint of his red briefs. The red briefs that leave not a detail to the imagination and the semi Scott's been nursing since that morning very quickly turns into a full-blast boner.

If he could be discrete about taking a picture of his crotch, he'd show Derek the trouble he's caused.

 _Aren't there cameras in your office?_

 _They were accidentally disconnected when they rewired the servers._

Another picture from Derek follows a moment later, and this time it's of him reaching into his fly and stroking himself. Scott swallows and licks his lips, looking up to make sure no one's paying attention to him.

 _Should be my hand in there._ Scott feels it when his precome starts to leak and his foreskin retracts of its own accord. Fuck, Derek makes him so fucking _easy_ to turn on.

 _Won't disagree with that._

Scott makes the picture so that it takes up his whole screen and he's mightily tempted to make it his wallpaper – which Derek probably wouldn't be too keen on but it's not like the world doesn't already that know he's head over heels for this man.

 _Please tell me you're at least alone._ Scott would hate for Derek to get in any sort of trouble over sending dirty pictures. Well… a little anyway.

Derek's response is to send him his naked dick, stuck out through the fly of his briefs. The angle he's snapped the picture at shows off the sharp, delicious upwards curve of his cock, average length but so, so thick. Scott's mouth starts to water for reasons having nothing to do with the potatoes, imagining his lips around Derek's girth and licking so, so slowly over his frenulum.

 _I am._ Derek sends another picture, his phone above his head so that Scott sees his face, his dick, and the cubicles nears his, each one of them empty. Scott palms himself through his pants, scooting his phone closer to him just in case someone sees. Derek's had a lot of students, and he's sure that he's not the only one who would like to have nudes of their scruffy, slightly scary TA.

 _Want me to be your cockwarmer for a little bit?_ Scott has absolutely nothing pressing and he _thinks_ , anyway, that he could probably squeeze under Derek's desk for a couple hours and hold his cock in his mouth. Sure it would be hell on his knees and jaw but Derek's so fucking worth it he'd endure every single ache.

That thought must have had some sort of powerful effect on Derek, because next he gets a short video of Derek playing with his precome, making strings with it from the slit of his cock and smearing it around the head, dark-purple and swollen. Scott finds that he's lost all interest in his potatoes and pushes them aside, his hands shaking a little because Derek is the worst fucking tease in the world.

 _You're making it awfully hard to hold to my promise from earlier._ Scott decides to risk it and snaps a quick picture of his bulge, pointed down the left leg of his pants. He's rock fucking hard and this is so not the time or place to be that but hell, Derek's all the way across campus and the walk back to the house is too long.

 _I want to mouth at your cock through your pants, babe. Looks so fucking big like that._ Another picture of Derek, his ass this time. He's dropped his pants just far enough for Scott to see the top half, fuzzy and round and so, so perfect – Derek does more squats than anyone else Scott has ever met and it's paid off handsomely.

 _Kind of want to eat your ass first. Think we can do that Sunday? All fucking day babe, you and me and my face between your legs._

"Yo, Scotty!" The sudden intrusion of Stiles' voice makes Scott jump, the guilt painted as plain as day on his face. Stiles grins when he notices that Scott's blushing awfully hard.

"Derek?" Stiles sits down next to him and starts to grab for Scott's phone, Scott snatching it away at the last second.

"So what if it is?" Scott checks the screen one last time, half his attention on it and half on Stiles.

 _Got class now – see you later babe,_ followed by three hearts because Derek is secretly a giant sap when no one's looking. Alright, when _Scott's_ looking.

Scott finally slides his phone into his pocket and crosses his legs under the table. It doesn't alleviate his situation but at least it'll help conceal it.

Stiles is still grinning at him, mushing the cheese into his potatoes further. "Happy Birthday, by the way."

"Why did you say that so suggestively?"

"Because, my friend," Stiles says around a mouth full of potatoes, "you can probably ask for whatever kind of sex you want tonight. Get kinky and crazy and Derek can't say no because you know, _it's your birthday."_

Scott rolls his eyes and looks down at his own plate. "You know, the thought _had_ crossed my mind – but I'm not gonna do anything that Derek doesn't want to do."

Stiles clicks his teeth and waves his hands, nearly stabbing Danny as he approaches. "Dude, c'mon! Carpe diem! Or rather, carpe Derek's balls, I guess. Or he can carpe yours." Stiles smiles again and Scott puts his heads in his hands.

"What's this about balls?" Danny sits down next to Stiles, a salad on his plate instead of potatoes.

"Stiles thinks that since it's my birthday I should ask Derek to have kinky sex with me."

Danny gives him a half smile and spreads his Italian dressing around. "It's not a terrible idea."

"No, it's a great idea." Stiles leans over and kisses Danny on the cheek.

Scott frowns at both of them. "I thought you were supposed to back me up, Danny."

"Supposed to? Yes. Going to? Not today, Scott – treat yourself. You know Derek's willing."

Scott sighs and contemplates the blue table top. "I think I'll make that call, if you don't mind." The truth is, there isn't anything special he wants to do _to_ Derek – he just wants to be with him.

"Suit yourself – oh I remembered what I was going to ask you."

"Yeah?"

"Do you want your present now or later?"

Scott rolls his eyes. "Is it a stripper?"

"Yeah, because Derek would let me live if I did that. No my friend, this one is more… cloudy." Stiles winks and imitates drawing a joint to his lips.

"You're a true friend Stiles, really." Scott smiles and alright, maybe some weed might make life a little better right now. Shotgunning with Derek is really, really great foreplay and to his great surprised, they both love to get stoned and frot.

"What do you say Scott, we finish lunch, go to The Spot, maybe see what we can see?"

Scott thinks for a moment, torn between getting high with Stiles now or saving it for later when he can be with Derek. Yeah, it's fun with his friends but there's something so beautifully _intense_ about smoking with Derek – it tips the decision in Derek's favor.

"Maybe tomorrow guys." Scott shrugs and turns back to his potatoes. "Apparently a party's already being thrown in my honor, so I'll save it til then."

"That's your other present, by the way," Danny says. "We couldn't _not_ commemorate it, you know?"

"I'm going to need a new liver after it, aren't I?"

Stiles leans back in his chair and puts his hands behind his head. "Me and you both probably."

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to it just a little bit – especially if Derek's there to hold his hair back as he pukes up his insides.

Danny and Stiles have one last class after lunch and before long Scott's left by himself again, forgoing another helping of potatoes and heading back to the house. His insides feel a size too big and his cock's still hard, making the ten minute trek back to his house unpleasant. He wants to jerk off so badly, just go and lay down and throw some porn up on the tv and stroke until there's nothing left, because Derek's a goddamn cock tease when he wants to be.

Well, that and maybe he wants to check out the new downloads from the day before; Derek's a porn hoarder and Scott has yet to complain about that, because much like everything else he takes interest in, it's in very good taste. Scott doesn't remember jerking off _that_ much when he was a teenager, and Derek's entirely to blame.

He's still thinking about dicks and Derek's ass and all manner of inappropriate things when he walks in the house, nearly tripping on the first step of the stairs, cursing and glaring at the stairs like it's done him some great offense.

"Scott?"

Scott turns to his left and there's Isaac, clad in gym clothes and holding a bottle of water. That he's wearing a t-shirt with the sides cut out so that it shows off his long, lean body doesn't exactly make Scott's current predicament of a boner go away. There _may_ have been, a while back, a few threesomes with Isaac that resulted in everybody trying DP and a bunch of jerking off together and long, stoned make out sessions because both he and Derek found him to be hot, right up until Isaac started going out with a very wonderful girl named Allison and had thanked Scott and Derek for all the fun. Yeah, Scott might still crank it to memories of both Derek and Isaac blowing him at the same time.

"I uh, tripped on the stairs." Scott flicks his gaze to the wooden steps, just in case Isaac doesn't know what he's talking about.

Isaac laughs and stretches his arms to the ceiling. "You okay?" Scott's face is still flustered in that "I've been horny all fucking day" manner that Isaac probably knows pretty well by now.

"Yeah, just…"

"Derek being Derek today?"

Scott's so glad that Isaac knows what that means; on some levels, he's closer with Isaac even more than Stiles and there isn't much they don't tell each other – and Derek's constant efforts to seduce Scott is a topic of conversation that gets a lot of air time.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

"Well, it _is_ your birthday Scott – he's just trying to treat you right." Isaac lowers his arms and perches on the back of one of the mismatched living room chairs. "Gotta give him points for trying."

"See, that's just it – he doesn't _have_ to try with me. I think he just likes to send nudes while I'm enjoying my potatoes." Scott takes off his bookbag and sits it next to the couch. "Which were really freaking good today, by the way."

"Yeah, I heard – but I'm sick of potatoes. That's literally all that's in the refrigerator."

"Stiles and Danny hoarded again, didn't they?"

Isaac nods and gives Scott a long-suffering look. "They put my beer in the freezer, Scott. In. The. Freezer."

"I'll have a talk with them." Thing is, it's not so much Danny as it is Stiles – just that Stiles is the Idea Man, always, and Danny loves him enough to go along with it most of the time. Yes, Scott's happy that they're happy together but everyone else tends to suffer a little.

"Thanks – say, you want to come with? Could always use a spotter."

Scott mulls that over for a moment, weighing his options. He could either stay here and _not_ jerk off and be miserable or go with Isaac and drown his frustration in testosterone and sweat and end up being veiny for the rest of the day. Either way, it all ends with Derek and he naked together. Besides, he needs to work off the potatoes.

"Sure – give me a sec to change." Scott's already going for his half-undone plaid, racing up the stairs to he and Derek's room. He kicks off his shoes and strips fast, groaning when he feels his dick rub against his jeans as he takes them off. He's going to have to get rid of it before he puts his shorts on, because the last time he popped a hard-on at the gym (Derek's white shorts, as it turns out, are partly see-through when he's all sweaty) they nearly got banned for indecent exposure – even though it hadn't exactly been Scott's fault directly. He thinks about dead animals from his clinic days and Stiles' favorite drunk food, pickles and peanut butter sandwiches. The mere thought makes his stomach turn and thank God, his dick calms down and the danger of flashing somebody lessens.

He's got his tank top on, his jock strap hugging him right and his socks pulled up his calves – only to find that the only shorts he's got that are clean are the red ones that Derek calls the Daisy Dukes. Yes, they make his quads and ass look fantastic but this isn't a show off for everyone and their mother sort of day. Still, all of his other shorts reek so the Daisy Dukes it is. It's been a while since he's worn them and lo and behold, his ass barely fits in them anymore.

Scott's simply going to have to accept his fate.

Isaac's waiting for him on the bottom step, his earbuds around his neck and his back to Scott. He turns around and looks up when he hears Scott descending.

"Hey, you're wearing the Daisy Dukes!" Isaac stands and grins, unashamedly checking Scott out.

"Yeah, I know I'm hot. Reichsmarshall Hale is the one responsible for it." Scott spreads his hands in a "what can I do about it" sort of gesture, Isaac's gaze somewhere on his chest.

"That reminds me – I have to give you your present."

"Isaac, you really didn't-"

"I've already okayed it with Derek."

Before Scott can ask what exactly it is that Derek agreed to for him, Isaac's pulling him in by his hips and pressing their bodies together so that a flood of memories comes rushing back, hot, sweaty, come-sticky memories and Isaac's kissing him, gently at first but soon it deepens. Isaac's a "hands on the face" sort of kisser and his long, warm fingers come up to cradle Scott's cheeks and hold him, his tongue sliding into Scott's mouth. Scott wimpers because this isn't fair at all; Derek _knew_ he was horny already and now he's getting an encore of Isaac's world-class snogging.

Not that he doesn't enjoy it, oh no – he smiles through the whole thing, even when Isaac presses him up against the wall and Scott has to tilt his head back a little more so that both of their heads remain tilted at a comfy angle.

Maybe today's not going to be so bad after all.

Isaac pulls away when Scott feels like he's about to start floating and his lips are tingling, all smiles and cheeks flushing deep red.

"Happy birthday, Scott." Isaac gives him one more little kiss and backs away, clearly aroused but happy to just leave it at that.

Scott remains against the wall, grinning and licking the inside of his own mouth so that the taste of Isaac lingers long enough until he can tackle Derek later. A futile effort yes but Derek's the one who put this whole damn thing together for a start.

"You know, most people just buy the other guy a drink first."

"Oh, you'll get that too – but I wanted to give you something a little different. Allison knows too, before you ask. Turns out we're all bisexual."

"That has to be a record, all these bisexuals in one place." Scott laughs and wipes his mouth – things got a little drooly there for a minute.

"We should do a study and publish it: 'Record Breaking Statistic – Several Bisexuals Attending CSU-Redding at the same time." Isaac picks up his water bottle from the step and heads for the door, Scott following close behind.

"Who knows, we might end up famous for it." Isaac waits for Scott to be beside him before they continue their journey to the rec center.

"It'll beat the pants off of being a starving artist."

Isaac claps him on the shoulder. "But Scott, that's why we're in college!"

Scott honestly doesn't see how that's supposed to make him feel any better.

Things get a touch competitive at the gym.

Isaac is the reigning king of the household for cardio work, whereas Derek and Scott both hit weights more – so of course Isaac had challenged Scott to who could do the faster mile around the track, knowing those long legs of his would give him the advantage. Well, Scott was not about to be beaten and had pushed himself a little too hard – but he was only ten seconds slower in the end. Of course it winded him pretty damn good while Isaac had barely broken a sweat, but he'd done it and that's all that mattered.

Things had been different in the weight room.

Isaac is super, super great at flies – and nothing else. Scott hadn't said anything, just smiled as he lifted and squatted and went through the regimen Derek's had him on for the last three weeks. It had hurt more than usual but damn if he wasn't going to show off in front of Isaac. Even better, Isaac had done Scott the solid favor of taking tons of pics to send to Derek after Scott had relayed to him how he'd sent him all sorts of nudes in the cafeteria. ( _They're pretty nice Scott, you can't be too mad at him,)_

Things had been going well until he felt a muscle in his left side to spasm, and he and Isaac had called it quits. He only laughed at him a little bit as they had made their way back to the house, Scott trying his best to look stoic and checking his phone every five seconds to see if Derek had responded yet to his pictures.

So far, nothing – whatever his professor's got him tied up in must be of dire importance to ignore pics of Scott with the hem of his shirt in his teeth and flexing just as hard as he can – especially with a flash of pubes thrown in the mix.

It hadn't been _that_ weird when Isaac had sent the photos to himself, just winking and smiling at Scott in a manner that implies his intentions are completely and totally wicked. Oh well, it feels kind of nice to be someone's wank material - God knows he still thinks about Isaac occasionally when he's jerking it.

Not that he isn't the frequent, detailed subject of Derek's alone time, of course.

There's an email waiting from his mom with one of those e-cards and a note saying that she's giving him money for his birthday, absolutely no arguments about it, and that there had better not be any reason for her to come down to his school because he's got alcohol poisoning. ( _I've seen it Scott, and it's not pretty.)_ Scott laughs and replies that he'll call her tomorrow (she's got the late shift today) and suddenly he misses home just a little bit, even though his best friend lives just a few feet down the hall from him and his boyfriend goes out of his way to make him feel welcome in at least his arms.

Scott's in the process of downing a protein shake and planning his night a little further when his phone finally dings with Derek's reply:

 _I am going to ride you so fucking hard later, and you don't have any choice in the matter._

Scott smiles and puts his shake down, plunging his hand into his pants to touch himself while he replies.

 _And I'm not gonna say no to that - kind of wish you were here now tho :/_

He drinks more of his shake and heads up the stairs, intent on scrubbing the sweat from his body so Derek can dirty him up again, whenever that might be. Hopefully soon.

 _Sorry, pup – I still have obligations to attend to. Did you smoke the weed Stiles got you?_

Scott's mouth goes a little dry at the pet name – no, they don't do pet play but Derek had remarked one time on Scott's energy and enthusiasm and it had stuck. For whatever reason, it has more of an effect on him than anything else Derek ever calls him. He feels his cock thicken in his fingers more as he taps out a response.

 _No – wanted to save it to share with you. Come to think of it, I'm saving A LOT of things for you._

That ought to fix his wagon, Scott thinks, and he makes his way up stairs.

He's about to jump in the shower when Derek's reply comes:

 _I know, baby, I know – and I am yours for the weekend as soon as I'm finished, I promise._ Scott can see it now, that beautifully serious face promising him whatever he can even though Scott has all he wants from Derek, that Derek doesn't have to give him anything else, really – but he also knows he takes his work very, very seriously and it's something Scott's grown used to.

 _I'll look forward to it, babe. Love you 3_

He doesn't send Derek anymore pictures, since he's already seen what he took at the gym. Anyways, he wants him up close and personal for the real thing, not across campus in some stuffy office taking care of "obligations."

The peace and quiet of his shower is once again interrupted by Stiles, bursting into his bathroom and stopping short of opening the curtain. Boundaries, man, Stiles has frightfully little respect for them.

Even under the hot spray of water, Scott can smell the weed on Stiles' clothes.

"Yo, Scott, you in there?"

Scott peaks out from behind the curtain and pushes his hair out of his face. "Yeah?"

"We uh – " Stiles coughs rubs his eyes – "we're going out for your birthday, no questions asked. Get your best suit on and bring your drinking face with you." Stiles looks mightily pleased with himself for coming up with this plan.

"Can't we drink in normal clothes? I don't know if my suit even fits anymore."

"Excuses, Scotty, is all I hear - but you're getting lobster for dinner and then the good stuff to get smashed on after. C'mon dude, you only turn twenty one once." Stiles clicks his teeth and does finger guns at him – that's how Scott knows true and well that Stiles is high out of his mind – and leaves the bathroom, of course not bothering to shut the door on his way out. Scott decides to risk flashing everyone as he steps out and shuts the door part way, listening for Stiles' return just in case he's got more news for him.

Before he leaves the bathroom, he not only shaves but douches as well, just in case things get interesting later. Knowing how Derek handles his liquor, they could indeed and Scott wants to be prepared for any eventuality – and bottoming is pretty fucking great, even though Derek likes to pretend he has a monopoly on that in this relationship.

At least his suit still fits, much to Scott's surprise. Just means he'll look good when Derek undresses him later. So what if his shoulders look even more massive than normal in it?

Since it's not even close to sundown yet, and this is almost certainly going to be an evening sort of affair, Scott ends up whipping Stiles and Danny – and Isaac, once he comes out from his room – at Halo. Stiles and Danny are both still pretty baked (Stiles insists that weed gives him savant-like powers when he plays, _no, no it doesn't Stiles, you shoot the ground and giggle to yourself_ ) and okay, they have an excuse as to why they suck so hard but Isaac doesn't have one and Scott goes after him constantly since Stiles and Danny are spending most of their time sucking face anyway.

"Dude, _c'mon,"_ That's his twelfth kill in a row on Isaac – and this time with a rocket launcher. Scott's _terrible_ with the rocket launcher.

"Sorry, kinda thinking about other stuff." Isaac's hair is still dripping wet from his shower and his tank top lets the whole world see where all of those little water droplets go as they race down his back. Scott notices how he keeps shifting around and yep, he's doing what Stiles so elegantly calls "the I'm Trying To Hide A Boner Tango."

Come to think of it, Scott's been doing those steps all day, so part of him at least sympathizes with Isaac. That kiss earlier didn't exactly help things, either.

"So, is Allison joining us tonight?" Scott poses the question to the room at large, trying not to think about Isaac's – or his or Derek's, for that matter – boner and turning back to the screen.

"Nah, she's gone home for the weekend. It's her Mom's birthday and said I wasn't invited." Isaac frowns flops back in his seat, finally realizing how badly he's sucking right now.

"Hey, you're welcome to cuddle with us if you want. We've fit more people in it than the two of us before, haven't we babe?" Oh good, Stiles has finally managed to pull his tongue out of Danny's mouth long enough to contribute.

Isaac looks at them, then at Scott, eyebrows raised in a _do I have to_ sort of expression. Scott grins and reaches over to pat Isaac's knee.

"I don't think he wants to be sandwiched between the two of you tonight." Isaac looks thankful for the save and looks down at his hands around the controller.

Danny pokes Stiles in the side frowns. "Stiles, leave him alone – we don't encroach on another person's territory, remember?"

"Oh gee, thanks for referring to me as territory." Isaac rolls his eyes and stands up, making for the kitchen.

"Uh, we've seen your back after a night of passion with Allison – any more scratches like that and we're gonna start calling you pu-"

Scott throws an empty soda can at Stiles before he can dig himself any deeper in trouble.

"I love you, Isaac!"

Isaac's response is to flip Stiles the bird from around the edge of the kitchen doorway.

"Soooo when's dinner?" Scott's stomach growls loudly enough for him to temporarily take his mind off of his "Derek not sitting on his cock" problems.

"Anytime you want, Scotty, you're the birthday boy." Apparently that's cue enough for Stiles to turn off the Xbox and stand. "And don't you worry about paying, because it's _my_ treat." Stiles glares at Danny like they'd argued about who was going to pay – and Stiles had won.

Scott laughs and gets up, stretching his gym-achey body for a moment before he heads upstairs. "I love both of you guys equally."

"Does that mean we get a kiss too?"

Scott gets in Stiles' face, almost to the point of their noses touching as he cups his cheeks. He starts to lean in, his mouth an inch away from Stiles' before he stops, whispering very, very softly: "Yes, Stiles, because I'm so madly in love with you and want to have your babies."

"Are you done?" Stiles' attempt at a straight face is undone by Danny trying to contain his laughter.

"That's what you get for asking silly questions." Scott lets Stiles go and resumes his journey – but not before he grabs Danny and gives him just a little peck on the lips, making Stiles hoot with indignation, followed by Danny sing-songing "I got a kiss, I got a kiss."

That ought to keep them busy for a few minutes, at least.

Dinner is even better than Scott was anticipating, complete with white wine (which Scott actually likes more than the last time he tried it) and a lobster so big that he kind of regrets eating it all. The staff doesn't sing Happy Birthday to him (Stiles just _had_ to ask) and that's even better, in spite of Stiles' attempts to get the other diners to do it instead. (Danny has to shove his hand down Stiles' pants under the table to quiet him down.

On top of it all, Scott misses Derek like crazy.

There hasn't been any reply from him since Scott took his shower earlier and it's well past seven o'clock now; the university doesn't have any classes past two on Fridays, unless it's an absolutely dire emergency. Then again, Derek _could_ be getting those aforementioned presents together, in spite of Scott's insistence for the last week that the only thing he wants is an uninterrupted forty eight hours with Derek and Derek alone.

"Scott, hey, Scott." Stiles is tapping him on the arm like he's testing Scott's porousness and concluding repeatedly that he's still solid. "We have an idea."

"When you say we, you mean…"

"Me and Danny. Apparently Isaac doesn't like gay clubs because he's an old grandpa who has to get home to put Bengay on his tender hip."

Isaac sticks his tongue out and Stiles and looks at Scott. "It makes me feel claustrophobic."

"Dude, don't even worry, I understand." Scott has so much sympathy for Isaac today, especially since Stiles keeps ragging on him like it's going out of style.

"Scott, you're supposed to talk him into coming with us, not let him go home to… do whatever."

"I'm gonna jerk off until my dick is raw."

Stiles nearly chokes on his glass of water and Scott high fives Isaac for shutting him down. "Way to go, Isaac."

"I was being serious. Scott, have fun and if Derek can't hold your hair back in the morning, hit me up. Stiles, Danny…" Isaac looks like he's thinking pretty hard about whatever he's going to say, only to leave the table and squeeze Scott's shoulder on the way out the door. Scott imagines that it had something to do with "don't get arrested for indecency."

How they could look _indecent_ is hard to imagine – everyone's wearing a suit. People trust guys in suits, right?

Scott feels the sweat start to drip down his back as they walk up to the entrance of The Boneyard, Redding's premier night club for those of the college aged, gay variety. Scott's only ever been here one other time, last year when Stiles passed his chemistry midterm with a far better grade than he had expected. He's not nervous about the environment – four years of high school locker rooms and then intramural lacrosse in a similar setting had leant him the necessary courage – he simply doesn't like the disorientation, the darkness, the noise.

But, it is Stiles' treat, so here they are.

"You okay there Scott?" Stiles touches his back and Scott takes a breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine – just wish Derek was here." He'd be aces if the only person he has any interest in grinding with on the dance floor was with him.

"Don't we all – now c'mon, it's half off tequila shooters if it's your birthday."

"You made that up, didn't you?"

Stiles shrugs and nudges his side. "Maybe – but there's only one way to find out."

The club is as crowded and noisy as Scott was expecting it to be, with more flesh on display than Scott dares to show in public. His eyes wander in spite of himself and before they're even past the entrance Scott's half-hard, and his slacks aren't exactly good at concealing a boner.

"Might want to put that WMD away, Scotty." Stiles points at Scott's crotch and winks. "Gonna attract the wrong sort of person with that – or right, depending on how open Derek is to hook ups right now."

"I need a drink." Scott leaves Danny and Stiles on the dance floor, already roping a third person into their little huddle. Good on them for having the courage, but Scott's not exactly in a threesome mood; he's in a Derek mood. That's more than enough for one person to handle.

"Rum and Coke," Scott tells the bartender. He gets a couple of interested looks from his fellow patrons and shakes his head, doing his best to be off-putting. He hears "Starships" start to play in the background and in spite of himself he wants to get up and dance, even though Nicki Minaj is about as far from being his cup of tea as anything.

He hums under his breath and surveys the crowd, resisting the urge to pine for Derek. He checked his phone before he entered the club, still no new messages, and it's really starting to feel like Derek's forgotten about him. Scott knows he wouldn't actually do that but it still _feels_ like he's not important, especially for Derek to choose him over-

"You know, it sucks to drink alone on your birthday."

Scott looks up from where he's moping and counting the bubbles in his glass – and there stands Derek, done up to what Scott calls model status, suit perfectly fitted, beard trimmed and his glasses making his eyes look even prettier than normal, the gray of his jacket setting them off so that it takes Scott a second to get together a response – Derek looks _hot._

"I-"

Derek puts a finger to his lips and uses his other hand to draw him to his feet, resting his forehead against Scott's. "I am so, so sorry that I've not been here for you today, pup, and I am gonna spend the rest of the night making it up to you."

Scott doesn't even get the chance to say "I'm sorry" before Derek's kissing him, deep and warm, to the point where his jaw is kind of forced to stay open to let Derek in. Scott closes his eyes and forgives him with his hands on his sides, their bodies pressed together and Derek's just as hard as he is right now. Scott can't help but to reach down and grope him through his pants, and given the way Derek moans Scott knows he's missed him today just as much as Scott's missed him.

Derek pushes his hands away before they start something they can't finish. The kiss breaks but Derek's hands don't stray any further than his hips – Scott will let him have that.

"Can I do something to you that might be a little uncomfortable?" About ten million different things rush through Scott's mind just then but he's foolish (horny) enough at the moment to actually trust whatever Derek's thinking.

"Famous last words but I'm open to suggestions." Scott gives him another little kiss that leaves him wanting a lot more then they're allowed in public.

"Good." Derek turns to the bartender and orders six shots of tequila, no he'll take them, it's fine, and once he's got them he leads Scott to the non-dance floor part of the club, where the noise isn't so loud and the dark corners let patrons get away with a whole lot more than would be normally allowed.

Derek gets a couple of chairs and puts them next to each other, Scott holding the little tray and watching Derek's body move under his suit. He kind of wants to jump his bones right about now, because those pants make Derek's ass look absolutely fantastic and had he not just spent twenty dollars on tequila, Scott would drop the tray and just lick Derek until they got thrown out.

"That ought to do it." Derek takes one of the shots of tequila and downs it, then hands one to Scott.

"Is this to loosen me up or are you going to take advantage of me?" Scott puts it to his lips and doesn't flinch as he downs it in one smooth go. He's had Abuela Delgado's homemade stuff at more than a few family reunions and birthdays; consequently, Abuela can outdrink everyone.

"Uh, both?" Derek leans in for a kiss and Scott gives it to him, all tongue and lips and fuck, Derek tastes spicy like he always does after he's had booze. It's such a sharp contrast to Isaac's coolness or (and he only knows this because Stiles dared him once) Stiles' intense energy that Scott's head spins. He almost drops the tray of tequila as Derek starts to unbutton his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and leaving his tie tickling his abs by the time he's done.

Derek stands back and whistles, seeing just enough of Scott in the low light to get a very nice eyeful of his body. "Oh, this is gonna make things even better."

"What is?"

"Your abs – they look like they've been drawn on." Derek licks his lips and pulls Scott forward by his tie, crashing their lips together. Scott whimpers as Derek does that thing where he forces his mouth open again, his resolve to only stick to pg-13 rated things crumbling fast.

"Lay down, babe," Derek instructs once they've had another decent fill of kissing each other. Scott does as he'd told, laying down on the chairs Derek's put together and keeping his head raised, intent on watching whatever it is Derek's about to do.

Derek gets to his knees and kisses Scott's stomach, quickly running his tongue over each dip and line, his beard tickling Scott's skin and making his muscles flutter. Yeah, Derek's trying awfully hard for that "cock tease of the year" award, and Scot kind of wants to tell him that he's been precoming _hard_ since he kissed him over at the bar.

"That tickles, babe." Scott does a game job of holding still in spite of Derek's proximity.

"Thought it might – don't move." Derek takes one of the shots of tequila and tips it over Scott's belly. Scott watches it collect in his abs and navel, feeling the burn of it and trying so, so hard to not let it get anywhere. It'd be a terrible waste if it did.

"Shit – forgot the lime. Don't move, baby." Derek comes up and gives him a kiss, leaving Scott in what's the second most compromising position he's ever been in – the first was on that first spring break they spent together and Derek had gone him with Scott to Beacon Hills and Mom had caught them in the kitchen, Derek with his pants down and Scott balls deep in him at the kitchen counter.

"Oh my God, it's Scott." Scott slowly turns his head and there's Stiles, looking disheveled, Danny next to him in a similar condition, dappled with hickies on their necks and their hair a mess. "That's an awfully dangerous place to leave yourself in, bro."

"Derek's fault – he went to get a lime." Scott gestures with his eyes at the tequila on his stomach.

"Nice," Stiles offers. "Glad he finally showed up, huh?"

"Beat it Stilinski – that's my drink." Derek's back with a couple slices of lime, not looking to be in the mood for arguing – for once Scott actively wishes for him to disappear because the tequila's starting to burn and he's positive everyone in the room right now can see his erection.

"Have fun, Scotty – we'll see you tomorrow." Danny turns Stiles away before Derek kills him and once again they're left largely alone – but Scott knows people are watching all the same.

"Hi, babe," Derek says, kissing Scott's hip before he finally, _finally_ drinks the tequila off of Scott. He's awfully showy about it, savoring every drop and making sure he covers Scott's body in kisses in the process. Scott has to bite his lip to keep from moaning, and he still has three more shots to survive.

Derek tastes like lime when he kisses Scott again, and this time he slips his fingers down the front of Scott's pants. Scott puts a hand on the back of his neck and holds him close, because this is about to get awfully pornographic.

"You're awfully wet, Scott."

Scott groans as Derek plays with his foreskin inside his underwear. "Gee, I wonder why."

Derek, the bastard, grins and reaches for another shot of tequila. "Like I said, I'm gonna make it worth your while."

"I swear, if you're lying-"

Derek pours another shot down his hip and drinks it before Scott can get any more of that sentence out and sucks a mark into his hipbone. At this point Scott's starting to not care if they get arrested – this is too fucking much.

"I'm not, baby, I promise." Derek pulls him upright and hands a shot to Scott. "Think we should down these and get out of here?"

"You're the one who started it." Scott tries to sound indignant but Derek's mouth against his neck distracts him.

"Well I kind of want to wet your cock and ride you until you're cross-eyed. Kinda hard to do that in the bathroom."

Scott swallows that shot of tequila so fast that he doesn't even remember tasting it.

They'd decided to travel on foot, since none of them have a car here except Derek, and he didn't drive that here to start with. They have to go a couple streets over and wait for a bus – they spend their time waiting by making out against a lamp post, and the only thing that stops Scott from coming in his pants is the bus arriving and Derek letting go of him.

Hands are mostly kept to themselves – mostly – on the ride back to their street, but it doesn't stop Derek from rubbing Scotts thigh and kissing him up against the window. They're the only ones aboard and the driver glares sternly as they get off, Scott offering her an innocent smile as he gets off and follows Derek home.

"I don't think she enjoyed the show." Scott slips his hand into Derek's, his body still tingly from where Derek's mouth had been on him.

"Too bad – we've got lost time to make up for."

"Only about fourteen hours, Derek, not like you went away for war."

"Well… it feels like I did. C'mon, I've got a plug in my ass and the lube's started to dry."

Scott nearly trips to his death over a loose flagstone. "You could have just showed me instead."

"Aw, Scott, now where's the fun in that?"

He's really starting to think that he's not going to live to see twenty two at this point.

Scott shoots Isaac a "we're home, just cover your ears" text before Derek practically drags him up the stairs, stopping every couple of steps to shove him against the wall to tongue fuck him. Scott holds on and gives back just as good as he's getting, both he and Derek's inability to keep their hands off of each other in full force. Ties and jackets are gone by the time they get to the hallway, shoes and shirts on the landing, and pants off just inside the door. Scott has to kick them aside to shut it, leaving them in just underwear.

Well, Scott's wearing underwear – boxer briefs – Derek's in a black and white jockstrap, his ass looking absolutely magnificent where it's framed between the cloth straps. Scott can see the base of the red plug between his cheeks and yeah, it's sort of a need at this point to see how opened up Derek currently is.

"Don't remember seeing this one, babe." Scott pushes Derek down on the bed and crawls on top of him, holding his hands above his head and rutting his hips against Derek's ass.

"It's new – and just one of your presents." Derek moans when Scott makes the plug shift, making the precome stain on the front of his jock grow even larger.

"Kind of want to see the other ones." Scott nips Derek's shoulder and gets his fingers between them, grabbing what he can of it and making an attempt to fuck it in and out of Derek's ass.

Derek clenches around the plug and holds Scott's wrist. "I swear if you do that I will come, and I really wanted it to be your cock that made me do that." The desperation in Derek's voice tells him that he's being completely serious.

"Right, well let's _get_ to that." Scott's already removing his underwear, kicking it off one leg and somewhere across the room.

Derek licks his lips at the sight of Scott's dick, pointed straight up against his belly and so wet with precome that the whole top half is shiny. "Two seconds."

Derek reaches under his pillow and grabs what Scott thinks is a cock ring. "Hold still, this is gonna feel wild."

That's the second time he's been told that this evening. "What is it _shit"_

"The Oxballs Cocksling Two – I saw it when I went to buy the plug and decided we both needed one." Derek takes off his jock and he's wearing one too – his is bright red to Scott's black -, his cock nearly swollen purple and his balls squeezed down and out the bottom of it, huge and round and enticing.

Derek finishes working his balls through the bottom part of it and Scott has to sit bite down on his tongue to stop his orgasm – it feels _awesome,_ tight but not too snug and everything is pushed up and out even further. "Fuck."

"Yeah, I know – now lay down, pup, I've got a job to finish."

Scott's finding that he's very, very good at taking directions today.

Derek postions himself so that his ass is in Scott's face and he's afforded a perfect view of Derek's hole and balls. Scott doesn't bother to ask permission before he leans forward and starts to suck on them, removing the plug gently as he takes one into his mouth.

Scott sucks hard enough that Derek – who had swallowed half of Scott's cock – has to stop, groaning around Scott and making himself nearly choke.

"Careful baby, it's dangerous to talk with your mouth full." Scott licks over each of Derek's balls before he sucks both of them into his mouth, their new toys making this so much more fun and easier then before.

Derek doesn't move, simply arches his back as Scott lubes up a couple fingers and slide them into Derek's hole. They've got time, it appears, so Scott's going to get very up and close and personal with Derek while he's got the chance.

Derek pulls off of Scott once he's really going, too caught up in the way Scott's alternating between eating his ass and sucking his balls. "This… fuck, Scott, don't fucking stop." Derek's breath is hot and wet against Scott's dick, hard as a rock where it's against Derek's face.

"Wasn't planning to, babe." Scott grabs Derek's hips and eases him back a little more, his tongue working into Derek's stretched, fuzzy hole. Scott fucking _loves_ Derek's body hair, even the stuff back here. He's licked Derek out to the point where it's flat around his hole, nothing but pink, wet skin that Scott plans to spend a lot of time tasting this weekend.

"G…good." Derek tries to resume sucking Scott – except Scott's in his element now, eating Derek's ass like it's going out of style, and fast.

Scott can feel the precome pooling on his chest and stomach where Derek's leaking so much, and he runs his fingers through it, making sure they're good and sticky before he offers them to Derek.

"Taste yourself baby, 's fucking good." Scott can't see it but he definitely feels Derek fellate his fingers, continuing to jerk Scott off at the same time. The double sensation makes Scott's skin burst out into goosebumps, everything felt twice as much and holy fucking shit, he needs to be inside Derek _now._

"Lube," Derek says, and Scott finds that under the pillows as well. He pushes Derek back down and pours it over his ass, watching the clear slick run down those gorgeous thighs and onto his chest. Derek pulls at the sheets as Scott's fingers prep him more, moaning Scott's name loudly enough that even if he has got headphones, Isaac's sure to hear them.

Scott pulls Derek back up and has him turn around, getting his cock wet fast and then guiding Derek's hips down.

"Been wanting this all fucking day, Scott," Derek says, his voice gritty and fucked out. "Couldn't wait to get you home and feel that big fucking cock in me."

"Sound a little too coherent, babe." Scott spreads Derek's ass and watches himself push in to the top edge of his cock ring, Derek's hands on his shoulders starting to slip where they've been sweating.

"Then make it to where I'm not, pup." Derek manages a shit-eating grin before Scott draws back halfway and fucks up into Derek – the short, sharp cry he lets out tells Scott to do that again, and he does, a little harder – he watches Derek's chest bounce with the force of their bodies coming together.

"C'mon Scott, you know I can take more." Derek leans back, palms flat against the mattress. Precome's steadily leaking from the end of his dick and onto Scott's stomach, his foreskin pulled back so that his glans looks even bigger than normal.

"Better hold on, Derek." Scott grabs Derek's hips and it only takes half a minute for Scott to find his pace, fucking up into Derek so hard that his voice is a constant, wobbling vibrato, head thrown back and his body flexed, braced for every impact against him. It goads Scott to go faster, deeper, his ears crying for Derek's voice, that tiny voice in the back of his head still saying _he's way too good for you, Scott_ and Scott drowns it out with his own cries, making so much goddamn noise that someone's bound to ask who the hell the two screamers are next door.

Derek's shaking and sweating so hard that the droplets fly every time his body moves it hits Scott in the face, his glasses slipping down his nose. He looks at Scott, eye contact communicating _I'm gonna come_ as clearly if not more so than if Derek had said it out loud.

Two strokes is all it takes – Derek managed to get a hand on himself – and Scott gets blasted.

Derek's come spatters against the headboard, the wall, and everywhere around Scott's head, on Scott's face, his chest – Scott's own orgasm gets kind of lost in being nearly drowned, screaming himself hoarse and it takes a long, long while before he comes back down and he dares to open his eyes.

"I…"

Derek puts his fingers to his mouth, shaking his head. No need for words right at the moment.

Scott's still inside Derek and the ring's starting to hurt a little, over-sensitive and spent. Derek eases himself off, wincing as the wide head of Scott's cock catches against his hole. Scott turns beet red when he feels his own come run down his cock and out of Derek's ass – only Derek doesn't seem in the least bit concerned as he lies down next to Scott and starts gathering his spooge up off of Scott's body.

"Open up, babe" – Scott's in no mood or position to argue as he contentedly sucks Derek's come off of his fingers, their bodies pressed close together, sticky and sweaty and perfect.

Derek closes with a long kiss, his tongue scooping up the come from Scott's neck and shoulder and he sucks every bit of it down, because that's just how much he loves Derek – even though tequila and come isn't going to be the best mixture when he wakes up in the morning.

Scott takes his ring off and sets it on his belly, Derek doing the same and reaching for his hand.

"Can we talk now?" Scott's surprised at how rough his own voice sounds.

"Yes – so about that…"

"That was fucking _awesome."_

Derek nods and kisses Scott's neck. "Better than awesome. Next time though-"

"We're gonna take out time and kiss more."

"Could get a start on that now."

Scott laughs and turns his head. "You wore me out though."

"Hey, I told you I was gonna ride you cross-eyed – although that wasn't so much me riding as it was you going poundtown on me." Derek rolls over and reaches for something on his nightstand, returning with a fat blunt and a lighter.

"What on earth would your students say if they knew you were such a slam pig, Derek?" Scott sits up a little and tries to not set and elbow down in a splotch of come – he isn't successful.

"Honestly? Some of them would probably congratulate me. You should hear some of the proposals I've gotten in the last couple weeks." Derek lights the blunt and takes a deep lungful, the smoke curling out prettily from his nose and mouth before he passes it to Scott.

"You told them you've already got your heart set on someone, right?"

Derek doesn't say anything, just kisses Scott's neck. "Which reminds me – one last thing."

 _Oh shit, Derek's not about to-_

Derek slips a ring onto Scott's fingers – black with a blue middle, pretty enough that Derek definitely had to have saved up for it. "This isn't a marriage proposal – but it is a think about it maybe ring." Derek brings Scott's hand to his lips and kisses the ring, and then Scott notices he's wearing a matching one.

Scott has to blink back tears and pulls Derek on top of him, setting the blunt aside. "This isn't the post sex euphoria talking, is it?"

"Absolutely not, babe – I'm serious."

Scott pulls Derek down for another long, slow kiss and yeah, this is absolutely the best birthday ever.


End file.
